C.R. Reunion Show

It's a strange thing to find yourself at two reunion shows in two days. Honestly I am totally out of shape, not ready to watch so many bands in so many days. But if my good friend Bricks Avalon comes all the way back from Colorado to play a show with his old band C.R., I have to make sure to get there. Teresa and I rode down to the Staten Island Ferry and took the trip over to "The Rock", the first time I had been on the island in a long time.

This was a completely different show from the previous day's Rorschach Reunion Show. Taking place at an obscure hole-in-the-wall bar on Staten Island's Bay Street, getting to this show was not easy unless you live on Staten Island, so those who came made the commitment to be there. It felt like an authentic show, although my feelings about the lack of context for this show are the same (see below).

This show happened for a reason. It was a benefit for the family of Richie Cunningham, who ran Happy Days Records. Rich died earlier in the month after a battle with cancer. I never knew Rich, but a number of people at the show provided eloquent commentary on his generous nature. If you are going to get an old band together, it should be for a good reason, and this certainly was one.

Another aspect of this show that made it more comfortable for me was that it was filled with old friends. In every band that played that night was someone I knew, and most of them are people I was quite close to at one time. I got to see Ray and Frank (ex-Murdoch) kill it as Ghost Armada:

Ghost Armada

I got to see my favorite hardcorepunk siblings, Matt and Mike Grande (ex-Devola), tear it up as XLR:

XLR

And I got to see Long Island legend Tommy Corrigan (ex-Silent Majority) sing for Capital:

Capital

If Bricks were co-narrating this account, he would make sure that I mention that all of these bands are actual, active bands, still playing twelve years after C.R. broke up. I agree that that is impressive, and all these bands have a quality that shows how long these guys have been dedicated to the music.

But the real show here was C.R., a band that broke up on stage a really long time ago. I have to confess that C.R. was never my favorite band musically, and although I have their records buried away somewhere in my mom's basement, I only have access to one of their songs in my MP3 library. I am put to shame by countless Staten Island kids present at the show who seemed to know every word of every short-and-sweet C.R. song. But as much as I never had a close affinity for the band's music, I have always had an incredible affinity for the people in the band. Grover, Elway, and Mike D. I have not seen in many years, but I really appreciate them as people. And Bricks, well, I try to keep him as close as I can despite the distance between us, and the highlight of my week was holding his baby boy Emmett while having dinner with him and his wife McCaren. The real thrill for me was seeing these wonderful people do their thing one more time, and thrive.

C.R.

So who can complain about seeing your old pals rock out like they used to? I cannot, but I still think that a show in the middle of nothing is not really a show at all. I left with a slightly renewed connection to my past, and still no idea where I am going next. Kind of makes me wish there was another C.R. show to look forward to next week.